A Successful Shadow: or, A Detective's Successful Quest

"She is a very ambitious woman; her husband is a man of comparatively moderate means. She has spent a great deal of time in Europe. She was living too fast for her husband, and he made her return to New York, and she is now leading him beyond his means. Yes, she is socially very ambitious, not here in America, but abroad. To tell the truth, I do not believe her first husband is dead. She is leading a double life. She may not be so much to blame, for I have heard that her first husband was, or is, a contemptible fellow. She once had money in her own right, but the baron squandered it all. Her son has lived most of his time in Germany, and fortunately there is no family resemblance to betray the relationship. The son resembles the father; is essentially German in appearance, but he inherits from his mother a pretty bright intellect. He is a shrewd fellow; his mother supports him clandestinely, and I reckon he costs her a good round sum." The lawyer here lowered his voice and said: "In fact, the woman has put herself in jeopardy by several criminal transactions in connection with her son. They are carrying forged notes, and at any time there may come an explosion and disclosure."

"Do you think she would commit actual crime?"

"I do not think that she is a criminal by nature, but extravagance leads to criminal acts, and when one commits one crime they are often driven to commit others."

"You are right; but this family have come into considerable prominence lately owing to the tragedy connected with the young lady who was governess in their family."

"Ah! I see that is the part of it you are investigating?"

"Well, yes."

"I reckon that is all straight enough in one way."

"In one way?"

"Yes."

"What way do you mean?"

"The girl committed suicide."

"You think so?"

"Yes, and the evidence proves it."

"Yes, I know, but why should she be driven to suicide?"

The lawyer remained silent.

"Come, you have an idea," said our hero.

"I may have an idea, yes, but that's all."

"What is your idea?"

"I am perfectly willing to give you facts; I have no right to advance my suspicions. I may be wrong."

"I can tell you what you suspect."

"No doubt."

"You think the young baron had something to do with the girl's death."

"I understand she was young and handsome. He is young and handsome; it is probable that he may have had indirectly something to do with her death. I know one thing – his mother would never permit him to marry the girl. She is playing him off for a baron and seeks to marry him to a rich wife. I believe she will succeed. It will be fortunate for her and her son also if they succeed – indeed, certain matters are being held back in that contingency, that I know."

The detective had made great advances and he determined to work a great game, and within a few days he made the acquaintance of August Wagner under the disguise of the rich Spaniard, and as they both spoke French there was little trouble in their intercourse. Jack played his cards well, made a great display of money, and one day he advanced matters to a crisis. He had forced the lawyer to furnish him further details concerning the money transactions of the baron and his mother, and set matters in motion so that it became necessary for the baron to have some ready cash. Well, very well and skillfully had Jack played his game, and one day he and the baron were at dinner. The baron was being fooled and he had not worked the same game on the Spaniard that he had worked on the detective. On the contrary, he pretended to be very rich and possessed of great sums of money; he even assumed to be richer than the baron. As stated, the crisis arrived; the baron and our hero were at dinner. The baron appeared to be greatly depressed, and the Spaniard observed it and said, speaking in French:

"My good friend, you do not appear to be in good spirits to-day?"

"I am not."

"I am sorry; I wish I could do something to cheer you up."

"My remittance failed to come."

"Aha! that is nothing."

"Not materially, and yet I am very much inconvenienced."

"Indeed; possibly I can come to your rescue."

"I would not dream of letting you do so."

"Why not?"

"Oh, no."

"But it would be a pleasure."

"Really?"

"Why, certainly."

"I cannot borrow from you, but if you would accept a draft on Berlin – "

"Why not?"

"For quite a sum?"

"Why not, if the draft is good?"

"I have a friend, a very rich gentleman, who has dealings with my banker in Berlin; he will make a draft for me. His name is Richards, a well-known business man here in New York."

"My friend, you will offend me if you go into details. No, no, it is not necessary. Have you the draft?"

"Not with me; I can get it."

"Ah, yes; but, my dear baron, you will indorse it?"

"I will, certainly."

"That is fine. I care not who makes the draft, your indorsement is sufficient for me."

"Have you such confidence in me?"

"Why not?"

"Then we may do better."

"Any way."

"I will get a draft accepted by my friend here in New York; I will indorse it and I will take care of it."

"Any way, my dear friend; I am only too glad to be of service to you."

"You are very kind."

"Why not – are we not good friends. And I have not many friends in New York. How much will you need?"

"Two thousand dollars."

"You shall have it at once – indeed, I feel ashamed to accept your note, but you see I must do so merely as a matter of business, that is all. If the amount were less I'd not permit you to give me the draft on your good friend. Let me see, what is the name – did you say Richards?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I see; he will accept the draft payable in sixty days. Ah, that is it; and you will make the draft?"

"Yes."

"Good, very good; the money is ready for you any time. I am so glad to oblige you – why not?"

The baron was an actor, but the detective was a better one, and it was agreed that they were to meet the following morning, when our hero would have the money ready. Meantime, the detective as known to the baron had most singularly been in evidence even within three minutes after parting from the Spaniard. The baron met the detective, or rather he thought he did, but alas! it was just that part of the game where the twin brother of Jack, Gil, the excellent aid, came in. Of course Gil had his instructions well rehearsed, and he played his part with splendid address and cuteness. The baron was being outmaneuvered in every direction, while thinking that he was playing a winning hand.

On the morning following the incidents recorded the baron met the Spaniard, and strange to say, only a minute previously he had met the detective. Jack had the money all right, "why not?" and the baron had the draft, and in the presence of the detective he indorsed it. We may add in the presence of Gil also, for our hero had so arranged his plans that his brother was a witness, and after the money had been paid over and Jack had the draft in his possession, he invited the baron to breakfast with him. The baron was in high glee, excused himself, but said he would meet Jack and have lunch with him.

Our hero sauntered over to the elegant home of Mrs. Speir. The latter had suffered the most intense agony during all this time, and it had preyed upon her health. Our hero had learned that Mrs. Speir was a very lovely woman, and well fitted to adorn a mansion. On the occasion when Jack appeared he found Mrs. Speir seated in her library. There were tears in her eyes, and as the detective entered a photograph slid off her lap and fell to the floor. The detective leaped forward to restore it, and as he raised it from the floor he caught a glimpse of the face, and he stood gazing in rapt and intense admiration.

"I did not mean that you should see that," said Mrs. Speir.

"You did not mean me to see it?"

"Not at present."

"But I have seen it."

"I cannot help it."

"One question: Whose portrait is that?"

"It is a portrait of Amalie."

"Your child?"

"Yes."

"She is indeed a beautiful girl," came the declaration.

CHAPTER VIII

JACK'S GREAT DETECTIVE WORK – "WALK INTO MY MESHES," SAID THE DETECTIVE – A ROGUE WALKS IN – THE FORGED ACCEPTANCE – CLOSING DOWN FOR A CONFESSION

There came a look of pride through the glittering tears as the mother responded:

"Yes, she was a beautiful girl, but alas! I fear her beauty has proved her ruin."

"Madam, you can dismiss that fear; I have set in motion a series of tricks which will enable me, I am assured, to restore your daughter to your love and arms unharmed."

"Alas! I wish I could share your hopefulness; I cannot. You are a noble man, you have proved it, and more, you have proved that you are one of the most honorable of men. I am grateful, but I am hopeless. If my daughter were alive, as you say, she would come to me."

"There is no doubt, madam, that your daughter is restrained of her liberty or she would come, but mark my words: within one week I will bring her to you unharmed. I cannot tell you now all I have learned, but you can accept my word; I will make good my promise."

When our hero left the presence of Mrs. Speir, wild, strange hopes were surging in his heart. He had never given much thought to ladies, beautiful or otherwise, only as they were a part of his duties, but when he had once gazed upon the face of the beautiful Amalie Speir there came a great change over him. There was something in the expression of her face, so bright and intelligent, so different from any face he had ever gazed upon.

We have often said, and we declare again, that beautiful faces are no rarity in America. One cannot walk the streets or even enter a public conveyance without being able to pass the time watching a beautiful face, and the types of beauty to be met with are varied, but not as varied as the expressions. It is the expressiveness of a face after all that constitutes its beauty, and among our girls who are compelled to earn their livelihood in factories and offices, one will behold faces delicate and features classically beautiful. The anxieties attending daily toil do not destroy their beauty, and some of these girls have features that light up with expressions wondrously charming, and here also the types are varied, and it is wonderful how an impression will sometimes be mutually made. This is what is commonly called "love at first sight," and it is not an uncommon experience. It does seem as though some souls were born as one.

We will not attempt to analyze the feelings of our hero, Jack, the detective. He was young, well educated, well-to-do, and talented, besides he possessed one of the grandest physical structures that every held a human heart, and again, strangely enough, under all the circumstances, he was not only an honorable man but a young man animated with the kindliest feelings. His great physical strength did not make him an aggressor, but a protector.

All along he had had a strong motive in solving the mystery of Amalie's disappearance, but after having seen her portrait his previous interest become wildly enthused, and he clinched his fist and muttered:

"If any harm has come to that fair girl, woe to the man or woman who has harmed her, that is all I've got to say."

As intimated, Jack had carried out a very cunning scheme, and on the day following his securing of the note he met the young man August Wagner. He met him under the rôle of the detective, invited him to dine with him, and together the two young man entered a well-known café. They were seated at a table, when lo, the Spaniard entered. Here again our hero had utilized his double, his twin brother Gil, and so well was Gil gotten up as the Spaniard that the most intimate friend of the disguised men would have failed to discover the "transform."

These brothers had a way of destroying their resemblance for the time being, and at the moment there was no observable resemblance between them. Jack had appeared as Jack in one way when he assumed the rôle of the Spaniard. He traveled under the name of Tavares, and as his brother Gil entered the baron leaped up and made to go toward him, but Gil, having his cue, turned suddenly and walked out, giving the baron no opportunity to address him. As the latter resumed his seat Jack said:

"Do you know that man?"

"Yes, he is my intimate friend."

"Your intimate friend?"

"Yes."

"Don't let any one know it."

"Don't let any one know it?" repeated the baron, in a tone of surprise.

"No, sir."

"Why not?"

"You know his character, don't you?"

"He is a young Spanish millionaire."

"A what?"

"A young Spanish millionaire."

"Hello, has he played you?"

"Played me?" repeated the baron.

"That is what I said."

"But I do not understand you."

"That man is the biggest fraud and pretense in New York – one of the most dangerous men to have any dealings with in the United States. If you have met him take my advice and do not keep up the acquaintance. When that man makes your acquaintance he has a design every time."

The baron glared and turned pale – very pale – and finally asked:

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure. Why, has he worked you?"

"Oh, no, but I am surprised."

"He is a terrible man."

"He was introduced to me, as I said, as a Spanish millionaire."

"He is a Spanish Shylock; he loans money, and he usually gets about two hundred per cent before he gets through. Why, I know a case where he got a lady to forge her husband's name to a note, and as soon as he got the note he commenced to squeeze. He got all the woman's jewels, all her money, all the real estate she held in her own name, then exposed her, and she committed suicide."

The baron's face became ghastly, and the detective asked:

"What is the matter? You look deathly pale."

"The wine has turned against me."

"But you haven't drank any."

"No, no, I've a sort of dizziness; I do not know what is the matter with me. But I am amazed at what you tell me; there must be some mistake."

"No, there is no mistake."

"The Spaniard cannot speak a word of English."

"What?" ejaculated the detective.

"He cannot speak a word of English."

"Bah! he can speak English, French, and German. He is a splendid linguist; he plays ignorance, that is all; it is a part of his design."

The baron recalled the scene in the hotel café, and said:

"I know he can't speak English."

"How do you know?"

"It was through his inability to speak English that I became acquainted with him. He was in a café and could not make his wants known, and I went to his rescue."

The detective laughed outright.

"Why do you laugh?"

"At the idea that he could not speak English. Why, my friend, it is evident he had some design on you. Look out for him, or take my advice and do not have anything to do with him, or he will make you a heap of trouble. I tell you he is a dangerous man; the next time you meet him sound him on the question of his knowledge of English. Suddenly say something comical to him, and then watch. You are shrewd; you will soon find out he can speak English, even better than yourself."

Jack had set his fuse alight, and he started to work in another direction. He left the baron after a few more words of warning, and enjoyed seeing the young man writhe in terror.

Once on the street the detective smiled grimly and said:

"The miserable little conniver, I reckon I am drawing the strings very tight on him now, and soon I will make him drop to his knees and confess all."

A little while following the scene we have described a gentleman appeared at the house of Mrs. Richards and sent in a card, intimating that his business was very urgent.

The lady sent back word she could not see any one until evening. The visitor would not accept this refusal to meet him, and sent such word as to cause the lady to have him invited inside, and after about half an hour's wait Mrs. Richards appeared.

"Good-afternoon, madam, I am sorry to have insisted upon seeing you, but my business is very urgent."

Jack spoke in broken English, and was gotten up as the Spaniard.

"Your name is Jones, I believe?"

"No, madam, my name is Tavares. I did not send you my own card for reasons which you will understand."

At the mention of the name Tavares Mrs. Richards winced, and there came a pallor to her face. She was a fine-looking woman, commanding in face and figure, but she was a woman of wonderful shrewdness and self-control, and she asked:

"What may be your business with me?"

"You are acquainted, madam, with a young man named August Wagner? I believe he claims to be a baron."

The woman spoke very slowly, as though measuring every word.

"I know the baron; I have befriended him."

"Yes, madam, no doubt, and I fear he has taken advantage of your kindness."

The woman trembled.

"Taken advantage of my kindness?"

"Yes, madam."

"You must be mistaken."

"I am not mistaken, and I thought I would come to you first – yes, come to you before I saw him, because I know you are deeply interested in him."

"Only in a general way."

"Don't say that, madam."

"Why not?"

"Simply because the statement does not agree with information I have received."

"What information have you received?"

"I have been informed that you are very deeply interested in the young man."

"It is not true; I have sought to aid him, that is all."

"Again, madam, I am sorry to hear you say that."

"And again why?"

"Because I have been informed that you take a motherly interest in young Wagner."

The woman's face became ghastly.

"Who was your officious informant?"

"I am not at liberty to tell at present."

"Will you tell me how young Wagner has taken advantage of my interest in him?"

"I will."

"Do so."

"He got me to cash a draft for him."

"Dear me, is that all?"

"Yes, madam, that is all."

"I know you will find the draft is good and will be paid."

"You know it will be paid?"

"Yes; but why did you come to me?"

"The draft purports to have been accepted by your husband."

The woman still maintained her coolness, and said:

"Then my husband will pay it on maturity."

"Oh, that would be all right, but I have received information which leads me to desire that your husband should acknowledge the acceptance as genuine."

The woman began to break up, and she demanded in eager tones:

"Has my husband repudiated the acceptance?"

"Not yet, madam, simply because I have not presented the draft. I thought I would come to you first."

"Do you believe the draft a forgery?"

"In fact, madam, I have the most positive evidence in that direction."

The woman meditated a moment, and then said:

"This rash young man, can it be possible that in anticipation of remittances he has dared do this?"

"It so appears, madam."

"I must save him. If it is a forged note my husband must not know it. Yes, poor young man, how I pity him! and I must save him, and I will save him."

"That is good and kind of you, madam."

"Yes, I will save him; I will accept the draft myself."

"You are very kind, madam."

"I cannot bear to see the young man humiliated."

"You do not desire to see him humiliated?"

"I do not, I will not."

"Then, madam, you must think of some other way of saving him, for your acceptance of the draft is not a sufficient security for me. Now if you will persuade your husband to acknowledge the acceptance that will save any humiliation."

CHAPTER IX

JACK AT HIS BEST – THE HEARTLESS MILLIONAIRE – A TRICK THAT BROUGHT RESULTS – A CONFERENCE – TERRIBLE INTIMATIONS – THE MYSTERY CLEARED UP – SAFE BUT GREAT WORK DEMANDED

"Oh, no, no," exclaimed the woman.

"Then pay me the cash."

"It is not convenient at present, but I will give you my note in exchange for the one you hold."

"I cannot accept your note, madam."

"You cannot accept my note?"

"No, madam."

"I am surprised; do you fear non-payment?"

"I do."

"Will you explain?"

"Certainly; I have received information that the baron has quite a number of notes out with your name on them and the name of your husband."

The detective had struck the fatal blow; the woman wilted.

"You must have mercy on the young man," she exclaimed.

"It is not in my way, madam, to show mercy. What I need is money – my own money."

"I will give you a note in double the amount."

"But, madam, I could not accept your note, no, and now I would not accept your husband's note, for I have information that you and the baron, your son, have so involved him that he will be a ruined man if he saves your honor and credit. I cannot stand to lose, but, madam, I will see you again. You will need time to think and time to confer with the baron. I will call again."

The detective rose; the woman was really overwhelmed.

The Spaniard evidently knew the truth – the whole truth – knew that the baron was really her son. She did not bid the Spaniard to stay; she did need time to think, and she walked the floor in the agony of her thoughts. Then she rang for a messenger boy and sent a hurried note, and in the meantime she had prepared to go forth to the street veiled, and the detective, having worked a change, was at hand, and he fell to her "shadow," and he muttered:

"This drama is approaching its end; the play is most over; the curtain will soon go down."

The woman went to the very same hotel where she had met the baron once before. She did not enter the dining-room, but proceeded to a room. Jack was on hand. He had learned that the baron had secured a room in the hotel and had been living there for some days, and with his usual foresightedness the detective under a "cover" had secured a room in the same hotel, thinking that the time might come when he would desire to watch the baron and his visitors. He waited for the woman to enter the baron's room and then quickly he entered the room he had secured.

Right here we desire to state that this securing of adjacent rooms when detectives are on a "lay" is a very common proceeding. It is done daily, it is being done to-day, and will be done in the future. It is indeed one of the most frequently adopted methods of the profession, and it is a common event also to place a detective as a pretended criminal in the same cell or the adjacent cell to a criminal, with a view to catch his mutterings awake or asleep, or to listen to conversations between the wretched man and his visitors.

Jack was all right; he wanted to learn facts and it was delightful to feel that he had run these schemers down to a point where he could listen to their mutual explanations.

The baron was in his room. This was a chance in the woman's favor, and upon her appearance he exclaimed:

"You here?"

"Yes, I am here."

The baron had gone to his room following his little chat with our hero. He had passed the time in a very uncomfortable manner, and of course the arrival of Mrs. Richards was a great surprise.

We wish to state one fact to our readers: Our hero could have "closed in" on the two schemers, but he was seeking certain facts which they could have withheld. He desired to know why they had taken such a sudden interest in Amalie Speir, why they had commenced to scheme and make it appear that the fair girl was dead. While seeking this information he was proceeding very slowly; he desired to gain it rather than attempt to force it, for in the latter attempt he might fail. He knew that neither Mrs. Speir nor her daughter knew the motive – that is, so he had decided – and his moves were intended, as stated, to gain information from the schemers themselves.

Mrs. Richards sat down; her face was pale and she was laboring under great excitement, as the baron observed the instant she entered the room. When she did gain sufficient composure she said:

"What have you been doing?"

"I do not understand."

"That last acceptance – "

"You knew all about it; you knew we needed the money to cover another transaction."

"But you have been trapped."

"Trapped?" ejaculated the young man.

"Yes, trapped."

"By whom?"